A Dinner Date
by troublewillfindme
Summary: Red manages to talk Liz into coming out on a dinner date with him, where both their self-restraint will be tested as the night progresses.


**I should start by saying I'm fairly new to the pairing that is Red and Liz on the Blacklist. I watched the show recently and loved the idea of them being together romantically, and this is my first ever attempt at writing a story about them. Usually I'm writing for a different fandom, so I'm really anxious about posting my first ever Blacklist fanfiction work on here. I do hope it is all right and that how I have written them isn't too out of character for them. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and I would love to know what you think. **

* * *

_**A Dinner Date**_

He's already at their usual spot, lounging around on a bench by himself, when she eventually finds an available place to park her car to meet him at Stanton Park.

Elizabeth and Red had met every morning at the same hour for coffee the past three weeks. She almost begins to feel like an ordinary person and not an FBI Agent working tirelessly with one of the world's top fugitives again, as she walks past the statue of American Revolutionary War Major Nathanael Greene on his horse, her trench coat tucked over her left arm and holding her pair of gloves in her hands.

The sun has just started to rise and she finds clarity in the peaceful moment by herself to admire the view of the park's green grass stretching out before her and the looming trees blossoming around her as she sedately follows the path that trails to where he is. She sees him sitting, waiting for her arrival, white fedora hat on top of his head. One arm is stretched over the back of the bench he is sitting in and she smiles to herself as she spots the two styrofoam coffee cups on the space beside him, where he usually puts them to signify that he is expecting someone and that the space on the bench won't be unoccupied for long.

Once she reaches the bench, she joins him while folding her trench coat and placing it and her gloves neatly on top of her lap.

"Morning," she says to him quietly as she looks over at him briefly. She sees the small smile that appears on his lips as he passes her a cup without so much as even glancing her way, and she accepts it gratefully. "My alarm clock decided not to work for me this morning."

"You're more than twenty minutes late," Red announces to her, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to consult the time on his watch while holding his own cup. Liz receives no pleasantries about how lovely the morning is, no half-assed comments about her appearance. Just on her tardiness. "I almost had Dembe go bring the car around. You're lucky I decided to wait, especially considering I have an appointment in less than half an hour. Unfortunately we'll have to speed this up today, Lizzie."

"As I said, my alarm decided not to work on me," she repeats brusquely, pulling the lid of her coffee open and letting the steam out. "It's hardly my fault. You're the one that suggested we meet every morning for coffee. If I'm messing up your schedule, then you can always let me know if you don't want to do this anymore?"

"Nonsense." Liz watches him work his jaw as she takes a small sip of her drink. It's perfect, her kind of coffee completely, and Red never seems to mess her order up. In fact, she had only had to tell him once her preference; Espresso, two sugars, a dash of milk, and he had remembered it ever since. "Out of all my endeavours, this is the part I look most forward to."

Liz feels exactly the same way, though she would never outright admit to it. She likes having a purpose to wake early in the morning just after Sunrise before starting a gruelling day, even if it is with Raymond Reddington making small-talk over café-brewed coffee. Red had suggested it as an intervention, of some sort, after what had happened with Tom and the failings of their marriage. For the past month, it had been a terrible effort for Liz to even get out of bed in the mornings, so she was pleased now to have a constant routine of waking and meeting Red at the same time each morning for something to do to take her mind off everything. She still didn't feel open to talking about what had happened with Tom, but she was slowly getting there, one small step at a time.

"I never realized how much I missed the mornings," she says through the content silence between them, appreciating the view around them. "I've missed out on a lot lately. It's hard to find much motivation for anything anymore. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I still can't believe what happened with Meera..."

Red sighs loudly, opening his mouth only to close it up again, as if unsure on whether to go ahead and say whatever it was he felt like asking. But as if deciding to just feel free, he shifts slightly on the bench to peer over at her, an eyebrow raised with a tight smile on his lips, "Or Tom, Lizzie?"

She hates the name suddenly being mentioned by him, by his voice. It feels similar to her being slapped in the face. She wasn't prepared to hear his name again, so abruptly, so unexpectedly, popping into conversation. She has worked so hard, so hard pretending as if Tom Keen had never existed for her. Yet why did he have to go and ruin it and all of her hard work, just like that?

Red has always been good at evading questions. If anyone can meet him halfway, she knows it's her. "You better think of leaving before you miss your appointment. Don't want to be late after all, do you?"

"When was the last time you ate something?"

She huffs and frowns at all the intrusive questions. "What do you care when I last ate?" she mutters under her breath. "How is that any of your business?"

"You look as if you have lost weight, Lizzie. To remedy that, I think we should have dinner. Speaking of which, what are your plans for tonight? I'll make a reservation for two seats at a nice little place downtown. I'm confident you'll love the food there. They make these little truffles that are delicious. Dembe and I certainly had a blast when we-"

"I'm sorry, Red, but I'm not interested in having dinner with you tonight," she cut him off in a rush. "Maybe some other time. I'm busy tonight." She's lying, but he can't possibly begin to know that. Her plans for tonight were simply spending the night in, watching some television in her comfy sleepwear. Attempting to be sociable was the very last thing she felt up to doing.

"Oh, you're busy tonight? You have more pressing things to do?"

"Yes," she says shortly. "I'm all booked out tonight."

"Doing what? Sitting around, wallowing in your pajamas, while watching ridiculous sitcoms like you have done every other night for the past two weeks, Lizzie?" She gasps and gives him the most searing look she can muster up, only Red hardly seems affected by it in the slightest. She has no idea how he knew what she does of a night, but somehow... he does. "I'm sure all of that can wait, for one night at least. No, what you need is some good company and a hearty meal in you, Lizzie. I'll make the arrangements for dinner as soon as my appointment is over. You'll just need to find a dress to wear. Something casual, but elegant."

"No," she retorts sullenly. "Absolutely not. I'm in no mood for dressing up and eating out with you. Another time instead, just not tonight."

"When was the last time you went out on a date or even had some fun, Lizzie?"

"Since when do I have the time?" she asks. "It isn't like I work a regular nine-to-five hour job. Plus, you keep me busy with your Blacklisters."

"Still, one should always allocate some time to have a little frivolity in their life every once in a while, otherwise you're going to end up old and alone, Lizzie. A recluse, who looks back on her life with nothing more but sheer regret."

"Like you? I think it's common knowledge by now that you don't have any friends. All the connections you do have are nothing personal, merely shallow or business-related. So don't bother lecturing me on how I live my life or whatever you personally feel is lacking in it. Oh, and it's a no to dinner with you tonight. How can I make that any clearer on you? "

"You're always so defensive, aren't you?"

"I wonder why," she says sardonically. "Maybe you constantly bring that side out of me?"

Liz watches with outrage as Red gets to his feet while readjusting the brim of his hat and smoothing his vest and tie. It's obvious as anything her words have gone straight past him, as they usually do. He never seems to truly want to listen, nor take her words into consideration.

"As much as I am enjoying this tiff between us, Lizzie, I really do have to get moving. I'll see you this evening when Dembe brings the car around to your house. Remember to wear a dress."

"Red, please! I said, no, to dinner tonight. Please just listen to me for once!"

"Excellent," he says happily, ignoring her protests. "I'll see you then. This is going to be fun."

Liz feels her blood boiling as she rises to her feet swiftly. "Not tonight," she says in a low but clear voice, hoping to get it through to him. "Some other night, yes, I'll go out to dinner with you. But not tonight, Red. I'm in no mood for socializing tonight, I have no interest in having dinner with you tonight, and honestly, I would prefer to be alone right now. Can't we do this another night?"

Red presses his lips together thinly as he looks her face over intently with his eyes. For a moment there, she begins to feel as if she is at last breaking through to him, and her shoulders sag in relief. But then he says pointedly, his voice soft and deep, "Lizzie, are you a human-being?"

She scoffs at the stupid question. "Of course I'm a human-being," she replies stiffly, slipping on her gloves hurriedly to keep her fingers warm from the frost in the air. Her material-clad fingers fumble sloppily with her coat and Red catches it for her before it hits the dirty ground, shaking it out. "Why the ridiculous question?"

"Last time I checked, I'm a human-being, too, Lizzie, and human-beings have to eat."

"So what's your point?" she spits out, obediently turning around with her back towards him as he assists her in slipping her coat on.

"I sympathize with what you're going through. I know it's a difficult and incredibly painful time for you right now, but I refuse to watch you waste away in front of me into bones. Now that we have both established that we are like-minded human-beings and that eating is necessary, I am not going to take no for an answer and I expect to see you tonight, in a dress, for dinner like the human-being that you are, Lizzie. "

There's no compromise whatsoever in his tone, and as Liz turns to face him again, she accepts her fate. "Fine," she agrees lightly, with resignation in her tone. "We'll go out to dinner tonight, but I can't give you any guarantee that I'll enjoy myself."

In an arrogantly satisfied way, Red smiles to himself as he takes her hand and slips it under the crook of his elbow, leading the way out of the park with Liz in tow reluctantly. If there's one single thing Liz is utterly sure of, it's that Red always, somehow, manages to get his own way.

* * *

Although she's expecting it in advance, Liz still feels sick with nerves as she gets changed after having arrived home from the Post Office. Her lack of enthusiasm to go out for dinner in public is still nearby as she squeezes into a dress and makes some finishing touches to her make-up for the evening. She can only hope it remains a casual dinner for two, and that Red isn't planning on having any unexpected third parties to unpleasantly spring up on her. She's just sliding in a pair of earrings when she hears Red permit himself entrance into her house without knocking.

"Sweetheart?" he calls from downstairs, sounding as in good-spirits as ever. Somehow she doesn't think it'll have any luck of rubbing off on her this evening. "Are you ready to leave? I do hope you're wearing a dress, like I instructed you earlier on this morning?"

Liz rolls her eyes at her reflection in the mirror and puffs out her cheeks. "I am, don't worry," she cries down to him in exasperation. "You've successfully conned me into coming out with you. Congratulations, you got your wish."

"And your mood has improved since the last time we spoke, I take it. Where are you?"

"In the bedroom. I've just got to put on my shoes. Is it cold outside?"

"Reasonably, yes. You'll have to bring a coat with you."

Since she can't see any possible way out of it, Liz ignores his slow footfalls as he treads up the stairs, rushing to pull a pair of clear nylon stockings out of the drawer in her dressing table. If she's going to let herself be talked into this, she at least wanted to be rugged-up and warm for the occasion.

In a mad rush, she hitches up her dress over her legs and bends over, sliding the stockings on over each leg. She hops around ungracefully, wiggling her hips to pull the stretchy band of material over her waist, and then as she turns, she belatedly realizes Red is standing in the entryway to her bedroom, his mouth parted and his eyebrows halfway raised in what she assumes is surprise at having come in at the wrong moment. Liz feels a suffocating heat from her neck upwards as it occurs to her he's seen her bare legs, and probably, the tragic underwear she is wearing underneath her dress. She feels flustered by the unexpected situation that has presented itself, and she knows for a fact she isn't the only one. Red seems unable to look away from her exposed legs, and his mouth closes then opens again, resembling a fish.

"Oh, sweetheart..." His voice sounds unusually hoarse as he quickly glances away from her. She notices it as he rubs his thumbs over his other fingertips, like he's... craving to touch. "Forgive me. I'm sorry Lizzie. Maybe I should have waited downstairs for you?"

Trying to pretend it never just happened, Liz shrugs and pulls her dress down appropriately over her knees. "It was just a simple mistake, Red. It's fine. You couldn't have known what I was doing in here."

She struggles not to laugh in embarrassment as she climbs into her high heels. She can tell Red is still embarrassed, because he refuses to look at her once she makes it known she's dressed and ready.

"Er... shall we go then?" He asks, his voice still too high, as he stares through the entryway.

"Yeah, let's. I'll grab my coat on the way out."

"Good idea, Lizzie," he says, sounding strangely stilted. "You'll certainly be... uh, needing it."

She exits the bedroom and notices Red hesitating before he follows her slowly towards the flight of stairs. She turns to look at him curiously as he clomps down the stairs behind her, his eyes fixed on the lower part of her dress, namely her backside and her calves in her heels. Red has never looked at her in this light before, like she's an object of desire, an attractive woman, and Liz finds it thrills her in some peculiar way to know that his fondness for her isn't completely paternal.

Finally realizing she knows exactly where he is looking, Red quickly raises his eyes to meet hers. His nostrils flare and his jaw tightens then goes slack. "I don't know about you, Lizzie, but I'm famished," he says, patting his stomach with his hand loudly. "Let's hurry before I consider cannibalism."

"You're right," she breathes, her mouth twisting in amusement. "I actually find myself hungry, too. Maybe your suggestion for dinner wasn't such a bad idea, after all?"

"Bad idea?" Seeming to return to himself, Red chuckles. "Lizzie, sweetheart, my ideas are never bad. Yours, however..." She turns to send him a look over her shoulder, finding his gaze on her legs again. "Well, let's not get into that tonight, shall we?"


End file.
